The Ragdoll
by Maid of Blood
Summary: What if the Joker and Harley Quinn had a daughter together? Rated T for language and violence. Currently being revamped. Look for the newer version on my profile soon!
1. Prolouge

**Okay, this is my first fanfiction that is not about pokemon! Just so you all know, I'm not a super nerd and I only recently started to learn about the Joker and Harley Quinn so if i get something wrong please dont heckel me for it. Heck, I dont even know if a daughter character has been invented but this is my idea of what she would be like.**

I smiled. the bomb i had planted in the bank had only ten seconds untill the "grand finale" and no one, not batman, nightwing or any of those unatractive "heros" had even tried to stop it.

Oh, exuse me. where are my manners?

My name is Zachary.

My last name is none of your business.

I am fourteen years old.

Most people just call me Ragdoll.

By most people, I mean the ones I terrorize.

I am the daughter of The Joker and Harley Quinn.

My green hair? Natural

My chalk white skin? Natural

My purple lips? Make-up

**KABOOOM!**

My Smile widened. "Well," I said as I gathered my bag "I cant wait to see the body count on the news."

I walked home to tell Daddy Dearest.


	2. Home

**Wow. I was really surprised by the number of reviews I got on the first chapter. I love all my reviewers like my best friends. If I needed to reply to your reviews I would have done so over PM. As a general reminder, please dont heckel me over things I may or may not know. Enjoy!**

I returned home to find my Father sitting on the couch. Waiting.

"Home!" I called.

The Joker looked up. "Ahh.. Zakie, How did it go? I heard the explosion from here but I diddnt see it."

I shyly looked down and started twisting my foot on the floor. "That's because the bomb I used was tiny."

"Zack, look me in the eyes when you talk to me."

I forced myself to look at him. Father or not, he is still scarier than shit.

"The reason you didn't see the explosion is because the bomb was very tiny."

He sighed. "You know that every person who sees you and lives is another message to the _heros_ that they should come after you. Whatever, use a bigger bomb next time. how much didja get?"

I opened my bag and watched his eyes widen with greed.

"One hundred and fifty thousand dollars." I said proudly as he grabed all the money and threw the purple fuzzy backpack at me.

As he took the cash to the safe I realized that I needed to feed my cat. I grabbed a can of tuna and liver flavored food and plopped it into a lime green food bowl that read: **Pillow****Leopard****Pillow****Leopard**** EAT YOUR CAT FOOD HERE**

I went into my room. Unlike most girls my age, I dont have posters of rockstars or movies or animals. Instead, I have newspaper clippings of pictures and reports of different crimes that people suspected was the work of the Joker. If only they knew that it was me. Or, well, I guess if only they knew it was Ragdoll.

Unlike most girls my age, my room was also compleatly spotless. I had all my Skirts, ribbons, stockings, shoes,bombs, guns, and knives in a specific place and keep it that way at all times.

I turned on my TV.

"The mysterious bank robery and bombing is still without citizens of Gotham belive that this is the work of the Joker while others say it was someone interly different. All of those who may or may not've seen the criminal are either blown to bits or shot. The explosion caused by the bomb destroyed houses and lives two blocks away therefore the death count is uncomfirmed but it is for sure over one hundred."

I shut the TV off. I needed to see no more.

I ran to my mothers room.

"MOM! Didja see it? Over one hundred! A new record!"

she looked up. "Yes baby girl I saw it. wonderful job kiddo!"

I loved my mom. She was funny and her costume was awesome.

Yeah, my parents are crazy sickos who belong in a padded room. Aren't everyones?

Besides, they created me. There must be something right about them.

Even if that is a horrible mental picture. Eesh.

"Zachary Day... Are you there? Hello?"

I shook my head. "Yeah, I was just spacing out. What now?"

Yes. My middle name is Day. Take your funny comments and shove them up your ass.

"Your father said he saw a boy snooping around the former bank. He found a peice of your skirt in the reckage and is heading to turn it in to the police. He said you better take care of it." My Mother said in her tangy Brooklin accent.

I shrugged. That was a hopelessly easy job. "Sure. Hey how did over one hundred people die in the explosion but a shred from a skirt somehow miraculessly survives?"

"I dont have a clue. Now get goin' missy!"

I left the room and sighed. "Why couldn't he have come snoopin' around when I was still in my outfit!"

I grabbed two ragged purple strips of cloth and tied my thick green hair into large pigtails.

I lined my eyes and made the black points below my eyes, Mascara, Eyeshadow, Purple lipstick.

My clothes were my favorite. I had a pleated mini skirt with card symbols within each pleat. My top was white and extreamly short and would only cover what was necessary so I wear a longer black shirt under it. I put on thigh-high horizantelly striped black and white socks and wore my usual sneakers.

I grabbed a gun I could use to shoot from long distance, like say on top of a building.

"Good luck!" called Mom.

"Thanks!" I said as I headed out to kill.


	3. An unexpected attacker

I was perched upon an extreamly tall office building with my favorite snipeing gun in hand. Waiting.

The tell-tale boy was in range. I put my finger to the trigger and shot.

**Blam!**

I would like to tell you that that was the sound of my gun going off.

But this isn't about what I would like to tell you. This is about the truth.

That was me getting a sharp kick in the head at the exact moment I pulled the trigger therefore causing me to misfire.

I shook it off and stood up to take in the apperence of my attacker.

Green tights, Black and yellow cape, and the white eye mask thingy.

Robin.

I began to laugh."Really? This is my nemisis? That is so lame!"

He diddnt say anything. He just tried to punch me. Of course he missed me, Catwoman had given me hand to hand combat lessons when I was six; and a kitten

I jutted my fist out and uppercutted him. I felt his teeth clash together and saw blood seep from in between his lips.

He spat it out and kicked me in the stomache. As I stood there trying to work through the dull pain, he finally spoke.

"I have to say that I'm impressed. However, there is one thing I'm confused about. What's with the costume? What are you susposed to be? A Jokelett? Joke girl?"

I had had just about enough with his cocky atitude. This needed to end.

I searched for my gun and found it laying just out of my reach. So I acted how every beautiful girl acts around a boy. Fake.

He kicked me in the shin and I instantly fell to the ground and shut my eyes.

I heard him pull out his cell phone and call someone.

"Bat... This is Bird. You might want to check this one out... Yeah, defiantly... Well it's like a teenage girl version of the Joker. I mean in looks, she doesnt have his fighting abilitys whatsoever... Yeah, she went down after three hits...What do you mean I shouldn't turn my back on her?"

I took hold of the wepon and slamed the butt of the rifle into the back of his head. He dropped the phone and fell to the ground. I reached into my bag and pulled a rag out of one of the jars I always kept in there.

I put the rag over his nose and mouth and he instantly passed out.

That was normal considering the rag was soaked in chloroform.


	4. The strangest feeling

I sighed, waiting for him to wake up was so boring!

I had Robin tied to a post that we had in our "guest room" for the purpose.

"Looks like somebody cant hold his chloroform." I said with another sigh.

He stirred. "Oh God, what a crazy dream. I gotta tell Bat about this one." He lifted his head and his eyelids fluttered open. "What the-? Where am I? W-what am I tied up with?"

I shrugged. "Scarf."

I smiled as he tried to break through the fuzzy pink material. After a moment he stopped. "Pretty strong scarf."

I nodded and turned to the door. "Hey!" I shouted. "He's awake! Come on in!"

My Mom and Dad walked in and Robin's eyes grew wide.

"You work for them?" He gasped. "Holy shit!"

My Father ignored him and turned to me. "A job well done Zachary."

I felt a proud smile erupt on my face. "Thank you, Father."

I heard yet another sharp intake of breath come from Robin. "You're his Daughter? Ho-ly shit!"

"Shut up!" My Father snarled. He grabbed a baseball bat and threw another one to me. "Wanna help?" He offered.

I considered it, but I sat the bat down. "No, you have fun while I make dinner."

"In that case make some pie too."

"Sure thing."

Before I left, I heard the sickening crack that meant if Robin was lucky he would only have a concussion.

I went to the freezer and pulled out a bag of frozen barbeque chicken wings,dumped them on the pan, and began baking them.

I heard my Mother walk out of the room. "Remember Puddin'," She called to my Father. "no killin'. That's Zach's job."

I looked up. "Ooh, pudding pie. Thanks Mom."

"You're welcome. Hey I can cook if you want."

I sighed. "Mom, the last time you cooked you thought arsenic was an exotic spice and put it in our soup."

"Well it's not like it would've hurt anyone!" She said defensively.

"Never mind." I said as I pulled out some instant chocolate pudding and a pre-made graham cracker pie crust.

Instead of watching t.v. like we usaully do when we eat, we watched the now untied Robin through the one way mirror. Call it sadistic, but it was quite amusing to see him practicly crawl to a wooden chair and attempt to hoist himself up when he finally got there. But there was another feeling from deep within me; one I had never felt before. This odd feeling kept me from laughing as hard as my parents were and kept me from sleeping the next two nights.


	5. Mmmm Pie

I got up in the middle of the night hungry so I went into the kitchen to see what we had in the fridge.

Half eaten corn on the cob. Ew.

A cheese sandwich with green fuzz growing on it. Double ew.

Two slices of chocolate pudding pie. Yum!

I picked up the pie pan but just as I was about to dig in I heard a moan coming from the "guest room".

_That's right, _I thought._ I haven't fed Robin in three days._

I picked up the pie pan and a Taser and went into the room.

It was pitch black. I heard a noise behind me, foot steps.

An arm grabbed me by the neck in a choke hold.

I flicked the Taser on high and shoved it onto the arm.

I was instantly released. I turned on the light to find Robin sitting on the floor rubbing his forearm not two feet away from me.

"You brought a freaking Taser?" He said. "What the hell?"

_How hard did dad hit him?_ I thought.

"Yeah, and I also brought food but if you continue to attack me you wont get any." I said in a not-so-nice tone.

He looked down and mumbled. "I wont eat your food."

"You don't get it do you? I don't give a rats ass if you eat the food or not but it's my responsibility to at least bring you something to eat."

"You don't know the meaning of responsibility."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a royal asshole?"

"Has anyone ever told you that you're an evil Joker girl?"

I shot him a threatening look. "Don't say that."

He smiled, apparently amused at my dislike of being called my Father. "What? You don't like being Daddy's Little Girl?"

I punched his mouth. "You don't know anything about me!" I screamed.

He still looked smug even though his mouth was bleeding again. "Let's see, your real name is Zachary, your the Daughter of the Joker and Harley Quinn, you look _just like_ the Joker which I don't fully understand, and you were about to shoot an innocent person had I not stepped in!" .

I decided to be the bigger person in the situation and set the pie pan down on the table. "First of all that's barely anything. Second of all, I'm leaving the pie here. If you eat it good for you, if you don't good for you. 'cause I just really don't give a crap!"

I left the room and suddenly the strange feeling started up again. I watched him through the one way mirror and was astounded to see him dig into the pie the instant I left the room.

The strange feeling was making my head feel light and my stomach feel like it was tied in knots. It made me frown too much and it kept me from tearing him to shreds.

_What the hell is wrong with me?_ I wondered.


	6. Blackened eyes and POVs

_Dear Diary,_

_yeah, I know I don't really write in you. But really, nothing really exciting ever happens in my life so why write about it? But this is different. The way I have been feeling lately has led me to believe that something terrible may happen to me soon and therefore I need to journal this down. The strangest feeling just washes over me at the most inopportune times and make me feel like crap the rest of the day. My symptoms include: Dizziness, light head, my stomach does somersaults often,and blood rushes to my face causing it to turn a light red or I will get goosebumps and feel very cold. It also is messing with my personality. Yesterday I would've normally torn Robin to shreds and torn those shreds into shreds and so on and so forth but instead I just gave him food and left. I am also not finding people in pain as amusing as it was before. Perhaps my Father has found a poison that Ivy's anti-toxins do not fight against and I am slowly dying from it. However, another theory is that I may be experiencing an emotion I am not familiar with. Guilt and sympathy come to mind although I am sure those are not it. So many theories... so many wrong answers. Only one is truly correct and I fear that when I truly found it it will be far too late. I will write more often from now on until I have found what I am looking for. I bid you good-bye._

I went inside and started to cook my favorite meal of all time.

Fried chicken, green beans and macaroni and cheese.

As the noodles were boiling, I glanced at the one way mirror.

Dad was using the metal baseball bat.

I wasn't very surprised. If we have a captive he will usually take out a lot of anger out on it.

And boy, did he have some anger today.

And of course, he'll blame that on me.

Well, I guess it was sorta my fault. He wanted me to change my name from Ragdoll to Jester.

Jester is nice and all but it sounded to much like him for my taste.

I told him that I am my own criminal and not a spin off of him.

That pissed him off and his threats got very violent and profanity filled but still I refused.

So now my left eye is blackened and swollen shut.

_Hissssss..._

The noodles boiled over and I wished there was a poison that I could kill my father with. Just pour a little drop in his macaroni and poof! Dead, over, done for, finished.

My words to him as he's dying?

"See ya in hell you sick bastard."

Of course, daydreaming never got anyone anywhere so I went back to preparing the meal.

I dreaded Mom coming home and seeing my eye. She'll just get all over Dad about it and will end up hurt too.

I do not live in a happy home.

As far as I know, happy homes are nothing but pure science fiction.

I heard the front door open and shut.

"Hooome!"

Mom was back. Let the shit fest begin.

"Zachary! Honey get ova here!"

I attempted to fix my neon hair so it would cover up my eye. "Comin'!"

As I approached her, she dumped a bag out onto the couch.

She looked up with a large grin on her face (of course, not as large as my Dad's). "I beat 'cha money record." She said proudly.

For a moment I forgot about my throbbing eye. "No way! How much?"

"First, tell me ya current record."

"One hundred and fifty thousand dollars."

"That was pretty recent right?"

"Yeah."

She chuckled. "Two hundred fifty thousand, four hundred and thirty nine."

I let out a long whistle. That was a lot, she had definitely beat me.

Of course, she had just beaten me. Not her personal best. That was a lot more.

"Help me carry this to the safe."

"Sure thing."

Of course, my life could never be easy.

Of course, I would put my hair behind my ear without thinking as I said that last part.

My Mother gasped. "Aww... what happened this time?"

What else could I do but tell her?

Afterwords, I expected her to get mad and get all over Dad's back about it and once again the two females of the house are badly bruised and or bleeding.

Instead, she just sighed and said "Z, do you mind if I don't talk to your Fatha about this? I'm not in the mood."

I sighed with relief. "God, that would be great."

**(and now its time to change direction a little)**

Robin's POV

The metal baseball bat hurt like hell.

But I had to hand it to the Joker, I don't have a concussion. He always aimed a little lower than the places that could cause that.

My jaw has been dislocated a couple times, my mouth has bled for maybe the sixteenth time this week, I may have a couple of broken toes and fingers, and I can't feel my crotch.

But nothing too severe.

Nothing that I can't live through.

For now.

_No! Don't think like that! There may still be a slim chance of survival._

Yeah right, I was going to die there and I knew it.

When he finally left I felt like mush.

But I also felt like relived mush. Relived that I had survived yet day, and yet another beating, in the house of madness.

My thoughts drifted to her.

The Joker spawn.

The bitch who brought me here.

God, I hated her. This was her fault.

I lied down on the hard cot obviously provided for captives to sleep in and tried not to think about how many people died on that very cot.

As much as I hated the Joker girl, I was also very interested in her.

Why was she named Zachary? That's a strange name for a girl.

Why does she have green hair and white skin when her Father did not acquire those traits naturally?

I had so many questions for her.

Perhaps I'd try to talk next time she decides to bring food.

I hoped it was tonight. I smelled fried chicken, my favorite.


	7. The Convos

**Note: if it doesn't have a thing over it saying who's POV it is, it's Zachary's.**

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><p>I compiled a plate of chicken, macaroni and a small amount of green beans (there wasn't much left. I heart me some green beans.) and picked up my Taser.<p>

Inside the room I almost instantly became depressed. It was stark white and the only furnishings were two wooden chairs, a little end table, a cot, and a toilet on the other side of the room. Not to mention that the room was small.

I sat the meal on the end table and a hungry Robin stepped over.

I cringed as he tore into the chicken like an animal.

_There's that feeling again..._

I turned and started twords the door when he spoke.

"Can I talk to you?" he asked through a mouthful of macaroni.

I looked down and shook my head. I had seen this so many times it was almost like watching television show reruns.

I turned around. "Look," I said. "I've seen this before. You get so starved for human interaction that you will try to talk to _anyone_, even the warden. But I'm not the social type, and well, I hate you so I-"

He cut me off. "No listen. I hate you too. I just have some questions to ask you. To be quite honest I prefer the beatings to looking at you but I want some answers here."

God, what an asshole.

To this day, I will never know what possessed me to agree.

"I have a Taser"

"I know."

"Fine."

I sat down on one of the wooden chairs and he sat on the other.

This was my first time to really take in his full appearance. His raven black hair was a deep contrast from the white room and his skin was, well skin colored. It was very interesting to meet someone other than my Mother who has normal skin.

"Why are you staring at my arm?"

His voice pulled me back into reality.

I smiled in spite of myself and let out that little exhale of a laugh. "Your skin is the color of apricots." I said matter-of-factly.

He just looked at me quizzically "So? Your skin is the color of paper. In fact, this is one of my questions. How do you have green hair and white skin when your Dad acquired those traits in some sort of chemical bath?"

I knew he could see me thinking as I told a short story. "One time, I was watching some crappy teenage drama when I noticed that none of the characters had chalk skin or green hair. I asked my mom and she explained to me what happened to Dad and said that the chemicals must've screwed with his DNA and his screwed DNA was passed on to me in the hair and skin. But mind you, that's just a guesstimate on her part."

He nodded. "No offense, but it's so weird. Bat always told me that if the Joker had a son it would be hell on a shoe string in Gotham but he never said anything about what would happen if he had a daughter."

I cocked an eyebrow. "Hell on a shoe string?"

"Yeah, I figure that if your gonna cuss you might as well make it creative."

"Hmm..."

"What?"

I looked him in the mask (couldn't see his eyes). "Well, I was thinkin' that he probably knew that my dad would kill a baby girl."

His eyebrows rose. "So how are you...?"

A sarcastic grin slid onto my face even though I felt like I was about to cry. This wasn't an easy topic to think about, let alone discuss it with a captive.

"When I was born, my Mom knew he would kill me. She bathed me, changed my diapers and so on by herself and told my Dad I was a boy. He believed her and named me Zachary. Up until I was potty trained he thought he had a son and when found out he was livid. My Mom got beat up pretty badly but what was done, was done and it was too late. So I got to live."

He looked at me with, what I guess is, sympathy. "Wow, that's rough. I couldn't even begin to understand how that must feel."

This time my eyebrows rose. "If that was an attempt to make me feel better, it was a suckish one."

"I know, right?"

He smiled, showing brillantly white teeth. Someone goes to the dentist.

"Alright, how about education?"

"What about it?"

"Do you have any?"

"My Mother used to be a psychiatrist before she went all killer psycho."

"So?"

Now his questions were just getting annoying "I don't know! Two times two is four! A noun is a person,place,thing,or idea! If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it it does not technically make a sound because someone would have to receive the sound in order for it to be classified as a sound! If two trains leave from Boston-"

He cut in again. "I get it! Sorry, I wont ask about it again."

Damn right.

Time to play a card of my own (Hehe, get it? 'cause I'm the Joker's- Oh never mind). "So what about you?"

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well I may be a secret to the world, but I'm not ignorant. Robins are adopted by the Bat and trained. Where are your parents? Why do you fight for the light side?"

He looked down. "Well," he said darkly "It's funny that you would talk of your mom like shes not as bad as your dad is."

"What are you saying?"

"Harley Quinn killed my parents. Shot 'em down in a grocery store robbery when I was three."

_Great,_ I thought_ Not only no we have a caped crusader captive, but we have a caped crusader captive with a grudge against us!_

"Wow! I'll have to ask her about that. What store was it?"

"I don't remember. It was a long time ago."

I suddenly got a chill and goose bumps ran across my arms.

_The feeling..._

I looked down at my bare wrist like I was wearing a watch. "Oh, look at the time! I really got to get to bed."

"Your not wearing a watch."

"I was trying to be nice."

"Your first time?"

"And the last."

I kinda stood there for a second. Unsure of what to say. "Um... Would you wanna talk tomorrow?"

He chuckled. "You bring food and I'll bring charisma. Deal?" He held out his hand.

I grasped his hand and shook it until his arm wiggled like a wet noodle. "Deal."

And that's how the conversations of Ragdoll and Robin began.

**REVIEW PLEASE!**


	8. Robin too?

**YAY! The Ragdoll is currently my most popular story on ! A big thanks to all who have reviewed so far. Okay, now on with the show! Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING!**

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><p><span>Robin's POV<span>

The soft autumn breeze caressed my skin and whispered through my hair.

I took a moment to look at my surroundings.

I was on top of a building.

With a gun.

Batman stood beside me saying, "I usually don't condone this kind of stuff. But in this case it's necessary that she be taken out while she is still young and not a huge threat.

She?

Who was he talking talking about?

"There she is Robin. Shoot now."

I looked down at the figure I was supposed to kill.

Green hair and white skin?

Oh, the Joker.

For some reason I picked up binoculars to get a better look.

That hair was in pig tails and the Joker wasn't that thin.

He also wasn't a girl named Zachary.

"N-No I cant do that." I said, shocked.

Batman looked down at me. "Fine," he said gruffly. "I'll do it my self."

he picked up the rifle and shot.

"NO!" I screamed as I jumped in front of the gun.

Just as the bullet hit me... I woke up.

I looked around.

I was still in the captive room.

"What the hell?" I said

I noticed the bowl lying on the tiny end table.

_Mmm... _I thought._ Apple Jacks._

There was a note lying under the bowl:

_Robin,_

_you were sleeping and I figured you probably haven't gotten much sleep lately so I just left you some cereal_

_You better bring two doses of charisma tomorrow._

_Your warden,_

_Zachary._


	9. Figuring it out

**Because of band and brand names, you get another disclaimer. IF I OWNED ANY OF THIS SHIT I WOULD NOT BE WRITING FAN FICTIONS ABOUT THEM!**

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><p>"God, I hate poisons." I murmured. "they're no fun."<p>

I sat on my bed with my Mother with over 20 different books on different kinds of poisons.

"I know hon," she was saying "but ya daddy said you need to read up on different poisons and their effects so ya not clueless when he gives you ya birthday present."

I smirked. She acted like I didn't know what I was getting.

Not that twenty thousand hints to it haven't been dropped by everyone.

I knew very well that on October 30th I would not receive a cake, a party, or a card.

On every birthday, I get to learn how to use a more advanced/deadly weapon

This year, I was positive it would be Joker Venom.

Oh, fifteen would be sweet.

My bedroom door flew open.

"DA DA DA DA!" my Father sang. "Daddy's home!"

Despite myself I smiled. I loved it when Dad was in a good mood and not being a violent douche bag.

We both stood up and hugged him and he gave me a big, loud, kiss on the cheek and then went to Mom to give her a big, loud, mouth kiss.

"Okay, please. Just, please." I said.

They both looked down at me. "What?" they said in unison.

"If you're gonna make out, do it somewhere other than my bedroom."

They both looked at each other as if contemplating it. "Fine." Again in unison.

They walked out and I sat back on the bed and smiled. "They may be crazy, but I do love them." I said to myself.

I picked up the poison book I was reading and finished the chapter on white oleander and found myself with an unusual thing.

Free time.

I used it to think.

I looked at the books that littered my bed and thought of Poison Ivy.

Mom had been saying for the last month that we were gonna visit her and I hoped now that we had almost a million dollars, we would. She was awesome.

Then my thoughts drifted to Robin.

What was his deal? He talked to me like he cared.

_Who the hell cares about me?_ I wondered _ I'm nothing of interest._

But he was. I wasn't sure why but I was excited for our next chat.

Like hanging on the edge of my seat and rehearsing the questions I was going to ask him kind of excited.

I looked up at the clock and saw I had over two hours until I needed to make dinner so I pulled out my brand new laptop.

Stolen, of course.

I also pulled out my brand new .

Stolen, of course.

So the next hour and a half I loaded twenty albums worth of songs onto the the computer.

The other thirty minutes I listened to the music.

_It's true were all a little insane_

True that.

_But it's okay_

Well... not always...

_fear is only in our minds but its taking over all the time_

Again true.

_You poor sweet innocent thing_

Sounds like Robin...

_you know you love to hate me don't you honey?_

Again Robin.

I finished the song and decided that I liked the band and got up to make a rather large can of SpagettiOs.

As we were eating dinner, Mom and Dad started to argue about what show we would watch.

Mom wanted to watch the_ thrilling_ conclusion to someone's death on a soap opera

Dad wanted to watch a documentary on him that some guy was stupid enough to make.

"But puddin' I _need_ to know if it was Shelia or Claudia that killed Chris!" My Mother whined.

Dad just rolled his eyes and said "I killed him okay? Good, now we can watch the comedy!"

They looked at me and I sighed. I was gonna have to settle this.

"Mom, I love you but your show is crap and the documentary sounds pretty funny."

"Good girl." Dad said as he flipped the channel to 403.

Mom sat back down on the couch in a huff and pouted.

By the end of the night,though, she was rolling on the floor in fits of laughter with us at the way the witnesses were in tears as they recalled the "tragic moment my life flashed before my eyes as he shot down the woman next to me ".

"O-Okay," Mom gasped "We're goin' to bed. Don't stay up too late Z."

"'Kay." I said.

The millisecond they closed their bedroom door I rushed to the cooking pot and scooped the rest of the food into a plastic bowl.

As it was reheating, I sat at my vanity and styled my green hair into a messy but cute side bun and applied some plum lipstick.

_**Beep Beep Beeeeep!**_

I picked up the food and my Taser (I'm not stupid. For all I knew, the convos were just a way to get me to trust him so he could try to kick my ass and escape. I wasn't gonna leave my Taser behind any time soon.) and walked into the room.

There he was sitting on the cot waiting.

My stomach started to do somersaults.

_Stop it Feeling I don't want to hear it._

Is mentally telling my feelings to stop bordering on schizophrenia? I hope not.

"Sup, Z?" he said.

"The ceiling genius." I said, rolling my eyes.

I handed him the bowl and he shoveled it in and finished it in about three seconds.

"Okay," I said "now you got the food, so this time I ask the questions 'kay?"

His eyebrows rose in surprise. "Okay?"

"Well," I began. "you know my name. What's yours?"

He squirmed in his chair. "Erm, I really can't tell you that."

I widened my eyes and tried my best to put the cruel note in my voice my dad uses often. "You do understand it doesn't really matter what you say because you and I both know your going to-"

He cut me off. "Yeah I get it. Fine, my name is Brandon."

My eyebrows rose. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"Okay Brandon, how about-"

I was about to punch him for interrupting me so many times. "Hey, I know this is random but I just noticed that your eyes are brown."

I frowned. "So?"

"Nothing, I just figured they would be violet or something. Kinda cool you don't look like him in all respects."

Again I rolled my eyes. "I'm not like him in a lot of respects."

"Okay, okay, I believe you. If you were like him, or your Mom for that matter, you wouldn't be here."

"Whatever, now as I was saying before I was so rudelyinterrupted - wait, what color are your eyes?"

"What?"

I smirked. "Take off the mask."

"Okay, now that's asking too much."

"Seriously? Come on. It's not like your giving away anything I haven't. I mean, I told you my name and you can see my eyes. Asking to see your eyes really isn't a personal request. A personal request would be like asking what age you were when you hit puberty. Come on."

He let out a deep sigh. "Okay on one condition."

"Make your demands sir." I said in a random fake British accent.

"Bring me an ice cold drink. And I'll take off the mask."

I pulled my head back in surprise. "Well okay then."

As I got up to leave he added "And bring in the thing that was playing Evanescence."

I turned around. "You heard that?"

"The walls are pretty thin I can hear a lot of stuff. Like all of you laughing at other people's pain on t.v. for example."

"You heard _that_?"

He pursed his lips. "Yeah."

"Don't you laugh at those home video shows where like ninety-three percent of it is people getting hurt?"

"Yeah."

"Then don't act like your any better than me." I said as I walked out the door.

I brought back two drinks, one for me and one for him, and my laptop.

He gulped down the tea in world record time and gasped. "Oh, God that was good. I've had to drink toilet water. That. Tea. Was. Epic."

I stifled a giggle. "Thanks I made it myself."

He sighed. "Okay, time for me to hold my part of the deal."

He brought his hands up to his face and pulled the mask off.

His eyes were a fresh spring grass green.

"Whoa."

He only smiled. "Now, Evanescence."

I had just opened the computer when he had to ask if it was stolen.

I looked down. "No."

He just kept staring at me. "Zachary, is the laptop stolen?"

"No."

"Is the laptop stolen?"

"No."

"Is the laptop stolen?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

"What the hell Brandon?"

"Just wanted you to admit it."

"Screw you."

I turned on the music and we just sat there until one in the morning listening to Amy Lee's sweet voice.

At about one thirty I left the room and went to bed.

Suddenly in the middle of the night I woke from a dream about him and gasped.

I understood what the strange feeling was.

I began to weep into my pillow.

* * *

><p><strong>Now we get EPIC. Complements are welcomed. Constructive criticism is invited and given the five star treatment.<strong>


	10. Where are you?

**Hey yall! Sorry about the delay. I haven't figured out how to multitask yet and I had to update on my pokemon story. ENJOY!**

Brandon's POV

She hadn't visited me for two weeks. Her Mom was feeding me the most miniscule amounts of bread and water. Each feeding left me feeling emptier inside. Harley's constant reminding me that I was lucky Zachary had kept me alive this long was enough to know that Z was still alive although I no longer heard her voice through the walls. _But then why won't she come?_ I wondered. I slammed my fists against the wall in frustration. "Dammit, Zachary where are you?"

Zachary's POV

_Dear Diary,_

_I never meant to fall in love with Brandon. Before, He was just Robin. But then I got to know him and the mysterious feeling became worse. It was love. Perhaps not at first, but it is love now._

_If I am not mistaken, (and I'm not) he doesn't share my feelings. Even if he did it would be irrellivant because we come from far too different worlds and we could never be together._

_I am allowing myself one last conversation with him tonight and then tomorrow night I will do what i should've done long ago. I must kill Brandon. My knife is ready and I have killed over a hundred people before._

_Why do I feel so afraid?_

_Sincerley,_

_Zachary Day None of your business._

There were tear stains all over the page. And I smiled bitterly at the smudged words before I burst into heavey sobs.

Eventually I dried my eyes and went into the kitchen to make my, and his, favorite meal.


	11. The Last Conversation part 1

**Hey yall, it's good to be back in town! I thoroughly appoligize for the short chapter and the long wait but you can't expect me to have any sort of pattern when it comes to my terrible chronic writer's block. Well, anyways I want to thank everyone who has reviewed. Each and every one of you has inspired me and kept me going when I thought about quitting multiple times. I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

I took a deep breath, put on a convincing smile and stepped into the room. Upon looking at his face my smile became real. Oh, how I had missed him.

"Sup Blazin' B?" I greeted.

His eyes became as wide as pizzas. "Oh my dear Lord. Where have you been? It's been so lonely without our little midnight chats. Is that fried chicken?" He asked all at once.

I threw my head back and laughed. "Okay," I answered. "To answer all your questions: Busy, I know, and yes."

I gave him the plate and some fruit juce and once again he devoured it down in record timing.

"Oh my God. Your food is always so delicious. You make all of this?" He questioned.

"Yep."

"Why?"

"Well take a moment to imagine The Joker or Harley Quinn in a pink apron making delicious and sane meals."

He shuddered. "I see what you mean."

"Wait a second," he started again. "How the hell can you guys go shoppping?"

I smiled a secretive smile. "I go in disguise."

"Disguise?" He asked skeptically.

"Yep."

"Disguised as what?"

"An Amish girl."

"WHAT?"

I giggled. "Well I put on a long, brown, long sleeved dress. I put some foundation on the parts of my skin that will be showing and I cover my hair in a prayer cap."

His cocky, sarcastic smile danced on his lips. "Ya know, that's funny because when I go shopping I dress as a penacostal woman. I get this long ass wig and a large skirt and-"

"Ha freaking ha!" I interupted.

"I like your shirt by the way." He said.

Suddenly I remembered something. "Oh! That reminds me. I bought some clean clothes for you let me go get them."

I hurried out of the room to grab the clothes.

Brandon's POV

I was confused with myself. When I saw her face happiness filled my entire body and when she left to get the clothes I felt this hollowness in my chest.

Why was she causing this to happen to me?

I thought about her with her soft, pale skin and her beautiful silky hair.

I love it when she blushed; she got this almost normal skin hue in her face. Not to mention it was just cute to get the psycho killer to get all flustered and embarresed.

I relized what was up with me just seconds before she stepped in.

Zachary's POV

When I walked back into the room he looked out of breath and in shock.

"Whats the matter?" I laughed. "Did you run around the roon fourty-six times while i was gone?"

He just shook his head and laughed.

_Well, _I thought _it's best to make him his happiest on his last night._


	12. The Last Conversation part 2

**Okay, so before the chapter I would like to point out a story that not only needs more readers, but is awsome. If you like Ragdoll, you will like Stitches. The author did not tell me to advertise their story, I just wanted to share coolness of it to all. Enjoy the chapter!**

Brandon took the clothes from me warily. "I wont even ask if these are stolen."

I smirked. "That's probably for the best. I'll leave you to it." I said as I got up and went for the door.

He held up a hand. "When you come back bring your laptop."

"You want me to come back?"

"You didn't think I was gonna let you go that easy did you?"

I rolled my eyes. "I guess not."

I left the room.

Brandon's POV

So many thoughts were stirring about in my head.

_How could you even consider the notion that you are in love with HER? She's evil! Joker Spawn! She is the one who brought you to this house of madness! She is the one who will be responsible for your death! SHE. WILL. END. YOU._

_But she obivously cares. She brings me food and clothes. She wants to be around me and talk. She's... Great._

I shook my head and muttered to myself. "Great doesn't mean not evil."

As I pulled my new shirt (Button up light blue) over my head I thought about all she had said to me.

_"I'm not like my dad in a lot of ways."_

_"Don't think you're any better than me."_

_"My dad would've killed a baby girl."_

"She's not evil." I decided. "She's just a victim like everyone else."

Now it was just the matter of whether she felt the same.

I eventually decided that I would closely watch her to see.

Zachary's POV

I walked back in with my laptop.

"Really?" He said, gestureing to himself. "Kahakis?"

Again I just rolled my eyes. "You're not on the runway. What matters is whether or not they fit."

Now it was his turn to roll his eyes. "They're fine."

"Good."

"Alright." Brandon declared. "It's still my day to ask the questions."

I sat down. "Have fun with that."

He bit his lip. "You have such horrible shit in your life daily. How do you get through it?"

"Can I have a lifeline?"

"No, come on. I'm being serious."

I laced my fingers together. "So am I. I really don't know how I survive."

He sighed. "What I mean to say is that most teens would've commited suicide if they had to go through even an eighth of the shit you go through."

"Oh, well I can't say I haven't contemplated it before." I said non-chalantly. "Hell, I even have the added bonus that no one really would care if I died."

"So...?"

"I just felt like I was betraying myself. Every day I train to be the strongest I can be and even in a psycho household like mine you are still taught to never give up. I would be betraying myself by showing weakness and giving up if I ended myself."

"That's amazing."

"Thanks."

"No I mean really. I used to talk to schools and stuff about teen suicide. I hate it. It's a permanent and drastic solution to a temporary problem. So it's really cool to hear that even Joker Spawn has standards."

Brandon's POV

I realized what I had done before it even came out of my mouth.

A look of pure rage filled Zachary's face.

She grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and got in my face.

"I don't care if you're my friend or not." She growled. "If you EVER call me that again, I'll cut your tounge out."

Girl or not I was scared shitless. "S-sorry. I didn't mean it that way."

She let me go.

"Hey," I tried again "did you just say we were friends?"

She looked up and smiled. "Are we?"

"Yeah, yeah we are."

Her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. "That's nice."

Zachary's POV

_What am I doing?_

Friends...

_I'm gonna kill my only friend..._

_But I have to. _

_Don't I?_

"Hey I found a freakin' sweet band. Or, well a couple, I guess." I said

He smirked. "Show me whatcha got."

I opened up my laptop and clicked on my files when Brandon stopped me.

"Wait," He said. "Why did you name your main folder "My Skunks"?"

I shrugged. "Why not?"

Brandon just laughed. "Okay then."

So Brandon and I sat there and listened to Within Temptation and Linkin Park untill three in the morning. I shut the computer off, bid him goodnight, went into my room and changed into my pajamas and cried myself to sleep.

Joker's POV

I got up hungry in the middle of the night when I absentmindedly glanced at the one-way mirror.

My daughter and the Bird boy were talking. Laughing. Flirting.

I walked into Zach's room.

Her room was so neat it was easy to find what I was looking for.

I picked up the purple, green and pink book and flipped through the pages.

I found it:

_Dear Diary,_

_I never meant to fall in love with Brandon. Before, He was just Robin..._

I didn't read the rest of the entry. I had the information I needed.

I stalked back into our bedroom and began to laugh loudly.

Harley stirred. "What's up Puddin'?" She said sleepily.

"Oh, nothing." I said with my signature hundred-wat smile. "Just that tomorrow some serious shit's about to go down."

**By the way, I know this chapter was boring but it will have mucho significance later.**

**REVIEW!**


	13. Sad Doors and Sadder Dolls

**Okay, so wow. I never meant for my writer's block to get so out of control. To do this chapter the way it should be done, I had to do a shit ton of research. By research I mean watching every single Harley/Joker episode I could get my hands on. Weird part, that only made the block get worse! But as you can see, my genius mind came through at last. This is my longest chapter so far so I hope you enjoy it.**

**This is one of the last few chapters in this story. Just so you know.**

**Warning: Stronger language ahead. And by that I mean the fuck word.**

I picked up my sharp little knife. So small and light.

I held it to where the handle fit in my palm perfectly and jabbed it through the door to where you could see the blade clear through the other side.

"Quit trying to disembowel the door!" My mother screeched.

"Sorry Mom!" I called back.

_Who am I kidding? No way I could use a knife to kill him. His death has to be quick and as remotely painless as possible._

I pulled the blade out of the wooden frame and put it back in its drawer.

I opened another drawer and pulled out a purple and blue pistol with a number eight carved in the handle in which symbolized what birthday I got it from.

My favorite gun.

I tossed it in the air a few times then caught it and shot a bullet clean through the door that moments ago I had stabbed.

I heard my mom scream and her footsteps get closer. The half dead door swung open to reveal my mom. Out of costume and into normal clothes and her blond locks tied up in pigtails.

"I don't know what that door said to you that made you want to kill it so bad, but I want you to stop." She said, her face getting red. "Mista J and I paid absolutely nothing on that door and we want you to take care of it!" She left; slamming the poor, abused door in a huff.

It was true that we hadn't paid for the house. (What else would you expect?) The place was actually just and old funhouse we fixed up here and there (Read: Bathroom). Creepy, but when you've spent your whole life in abandoned joke shops, warehouses, and circus tents; it's a bit homey.

I sat the gun on my dresser and looked for my diary.

It was missing.

_Strange, I could've sworn I stashed it underneath my pillow._

I blew it off as a simple misplacement.

There was a scratching sound on the other side of the door-on-life-support. I apologized to it and opened it to my sleek tabby cat.

"Aww," I cooed. "Hey Pillow."

"Leopard!" My mom called from the other side of the house.

_How the fuck did she hear that?_

"Mom! He is a lover, not a fighter. His name is Pillow and no, I am not open to negotiations!" I screeched back.

We had been having the same argument since the day I got him when I was five. He was a very old cat, but a very awesome one.

He was trying his hardest to jump up on my bed and I picked him up and placed him on my card symbol comforter. He never could jump well after one of our hyenas tried to kill him. I shot the hyena. Needless to say that Mom wasn't happy.

I laid on the soft down and Pillow curled up on my chest.

_Hard to believe that I could be so relaxed when in just a few hours I'll kill the only person I've ever loved for reasons other than family._

The thought made me break into a cold sweat.

_I can't do this._

_I have to._

_No. _

_Yes._

_I won't._

_It's my responsibility._

_Fuck that._

As I having this internal battle with myself I hadn't noticed my sad door had swung open to reveal the Clown Prince of Crime himself, my dad.

"Sooo Zackie, hows about we have ourselves a little chat? One psychopath to another."

Something was up. I just knew it. "Uh, okay?" I said nervously as I pushed Pillow off of my chest and sat up.

He shut the door. "I read an _interesting_ book last night."

_Shit Shit Shit. _I understood. "Uh, what book was that?"

He pulled my diary from within his suit and threw it to me. "Oh I'm sure you recognize the author."

_Humor him._ It was a simple plan. Only two words. But those two words have saved me from him countless times. He likes the sound of his own voice.

"Nope. Never seen it in my life." I said smoothly.

"Fine," He grabbed my arm and forced me to stand up. "You wanna play games? I love games." He took a card out of his sleeve. "Let's play Memory."

He threw the card. I heard the whooshing sound it made as it flew just past my ear and saw some of my neon hair float gently to the ground. I turned to see it jammed into my wall.

I shuddered.

_Just for emphasis. Next time I won't be so lucky. I can't jack around this time. He's serious._

"Do you know what that book says?" He continued. "You have some kind of feeling for that rat in the captive room other than kill. But that's not right, is it?"

"Completely wrong." I insisted.

He took a step towards me. "Do you know that it also says that you know his identity? Maybe you know Batsie's too. Remember anything?"

I shook my head.

"Do you know what I would do if my kid fell in love with some caped crusader and kept information from me?" He let loose one of his famous backhand bitch-slaps.

I felt a blood vessel pop in my right temple as my left slammed into the wall. I sunk to the floor, head swaying back and forth and seeing pretty colors everywhere.

He picked me up by my hair. "I'd throw her into the streets! You'd starve before Arkham found your ass!"

He let my hair go and I fell back on the floor. "But you know how generous Daddy Joker is. I won't let you starve."

Through the colors I saw him open my knife drawer and pull out my Bowie Knife, the biggest one I owned.

I heard a soft hiss coming from my right.

Then a loud "Reeeer!" and my dad cry out.

I shook my head back and forth to rid myself of the colors that danced in my head and eyes.

Pillow had launched himself onto my dad, The Joker's, head and was rapidly scratching up his face for all he was worth.

_Good kitty._

The Joker pulled my kitty off his already scarred face and threw him. Hard.

My poor, handicapped, elderly, faithful, loyal, lethal, awesome cat hit the wall with bone-shattering force and slid to the ground with a thud.

He wasn't breathing.

I stood up. Adrenalin coursed through my veins. "NOT MY FUCKING CAT!" I screamed as I kicked him in the face.

His shock was clearly written on his face.

I tried another kick but this time he was ready. My dad grabbed me by the ankle mid-kick. I was picked up and dropped on the floor.

He giggled. "You really are like a ragdoll. Not very fun but durable as hell."

He picked me up by my hair again and held my back to his chest. He put the Bowie Knife to my throat.

"It's about time that I do what I should've done when you were two. Then hows about I go and put a permanent smile on bird boy's face. Sounds like a barrel of laughs!" He began to cackle so loudly that it was almost a scream. It chilled my bones.

He pressed the knife into my neck and I felt droplets of blood leak out.

_I am gonna die._

**BLAM!**

Neither of us expected the gunshot.

There stood Harley Quinn in full costume and glory, holding a smoking pistol.

"Let. Her. Go." She said with a voice that said that she would kill him without hesitation. Impressive.

I could practically hear his thoughts as he figured who was more dangerous at the moment.

He let me go. "Harley, Baby, I wasn't hurting her. We were, um, training. Right Z?"

Bent on only self-preservation I vigorously nodded. "Uh, yeah training. That's right."

Mom didn't lower the gun. "Her neck's bleedin'."

"Little mistake on my part. Got carried away."

I grabbed a t-shirt and pressed it to my throat. The cut was frightening but Mom had stepped in before he could do some real damage.

She lowered the gun. "You sure you're okay Z?"

"Fine." I muttered. No need to put Mom in danger too.

"Well," Dad said. "Hate to leave a Ragdoll in stitches but Harley and I have some business to take care of with good ol' Boxy."

"Weee!" Mom shrieked with delight as she did three cartwheels then set off in search of her purse.

He turned on me, knife held out dangerously. "You have 'till this time tomorrow to fix things or I will; and if Harley steps in, I'll fix her too." He walked out.

I just stood there with the t-shirt to my throat until they left.

The second I heard the front door shut and I was alone my knees buckled.

I began to cry. "N-now I h-h-have to d-do it!" I wailed.

I fell on my side and hugged my knees to my chest and sobbed until I noticed that my tears had turned red. All my stress and desperation had caused me to cry blood.

I wiped my eyes and took deep breaths until I was fairly sure that I wasn't going to go into cardiac arrest.

I crawled over to where my childhood friend lay dead.

"Oh, Pillow..." I whispered.

I picked him up and put him in a shoebox lined with rags. I planned to bury him the next night.

I put on my Ragdoll getup and grabbed my pistol.

_It's now or never._

I took the world's deepest breath and went to pay Brandon a visit for the last time.

Brandon's POV

The door opened and Zachary stepped in.

"Hey, Z girl. How's it hangin'?"

Her face was sad, but there was something else in there as well. I couldn't make it out.

She took a step toward me and lifted her gun.

"Whoa," I said. "What are you doing?"

She pursed her lips. "We both knew it had to happen Brandon. I let you live too long as it is." Her voice was monotone.

I backed up, heart pounding, hands shaking. "You don't have to do this." I insisted.

She cocked the gun back. "I do." She pulled the trigger.

I side-stepped quickly and avoided the bullet by one quarter of an inch.

She frowned. "Please don't make this difficult." She said in monotone.

I clenched my fists. "Zachary! You don't _want_ to do this."

"I have to."

"Why?"

She cocked it again. "Because I'm not a heartless fool like he is."

_Funny way of showing it._

She shot the gun and I did a back flip, yet again avoiding the bullet.

She was now trembling. "Stop fighting this, please!"

_She's afraid. He did something to her._

"Don't do this to yourself Z! You're not the Joker. You're not Harley Quinn. You have a choice. You have a chance."

"No I don't." She said, emotion coming back into her voice with every word. "He'll kill us both if I don't. I have no choice. I'm the daughter of the Joker and Harley Quinn! The second people know about me there will be a cell in Arkham with my name on it! I have no chance!" She was shouting now. "You think I want to do this? You're my only friend!"

She cocked the gun and shot without hesitation. Her aim was off.

Cocked the gun. "It kills me to do this to you!" Shoot.

I ducked.

I ran over to her. Sort of a dumb thing to do, but it was the only way.

I grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. "Zachary, why don't you want to kill me? You have a clear shot right now and there's no way I could move out of the way in time."

Tears were welling up in her pretty brown eyes.

"Zachary," I continued. "Don't do something that you'll regret."

She dropped the gun and fell to her knees. "I can't do it." she whispered.

I knelt beside her. "Why not?" I whispered back.

Her voice was louder. "Because I love you."

"Really?"

"Do me a favor, please."

"What do you need?" I said as I put a hand on her shoulder.

"Pick up that gun and kill me."

I tore my hand away. "No."

"Please." she whispered. "Like I said before, I have no chance. Just shoot me please."

I picked up the gun and cocked it back. "You know what's sad about that? I love you too."

I pulled the trigger and shot.

**Btw, sorry about the brutal cliffhanger. I just had to do it. \m/^_^\m/**


	14. Funhouse

**Hmm.. this is one of the fastest updates I've done in a while. **

**Disclaimer: You still holdin' on to that dream? Get it through your thick skull! I OWN NOTHING EXCEPT ZACHARY!**

Brandon's POV

The lock on the door made a loud clangy noise before flying off. Not bad for the first time ever handling a gun.

I glanced down at Zachary, who was still kneeling on the floor with her hands over her eyes. She made a soft whimpering sound and looked up.

"You missed." She said bluntly.

I shook my head and pointed to the door, which was now gaping open, and outstreatched my hand. "Come on Z, you're too tough to just sit there and cry."

She took my hand and stood up. "Did you mean that? Before, I mean."

I knew exactly what she meant. "I meant it then and I mean it now. I love you Zachary."

She hiccuped and, with sudden force, hugged me. It was the purest hug ever received. She hugged out all her misery, desperation, and pain. She hugged out her love and joy and knowledge that was about to leave this terrible place forever. My mask started to get wet around the edges; not that I was crying, I just had something in my- What the hell, I was bawling.

Zachary ended the embrace. "I love you too. Oh God, I almost killed you! I thought it was impossible that you could love me! Oh God, Oh God, Oh God. What are we gonna do? I can't kill you, but I can't leave you alive. We can't run away, he'll find us in two seconds flat. We can't do anything! He's going to kill us! Oh no, and I was starting to get happy too..."

I took her hands and squeezed them tight. "Calm down girl. I'll tell you what we're gonna do. We are going to grab anything you can fit into a small purse and walking out that door and never looking back. Got it?"

Her expression didn't change. "He'll find us, Brandon. He'll take me, tourture me for information, and kill me. We would have to kill him."

I shook my head. "We have to kill them both."

"No! Mom didn't do anything wrong! Well, not in this situation anyways." She pleaded.

"Zachary," I said desperatly. "Without the Joker, Harley would lose any mind she has left. It would kill her slowly and even Arkham wouldn't be able to contain her. She would come after us with more force than you, Bruce, and I combine could handle."

She sniffed and let out a single sob. "I guess you're right." She blinked a few times in confusion."Bruce?"

I chuckled. "You'll see."

She pulled one of her hands away from mine but grasped the other tightly and led me out of the room. "Come on. We have to prepare."

Zachary's POV

Due to the fact that Brandon hadn't been out of that room in months, It was to be expected that he would be a little unhelpful for a few minutes. That being said, I left him to sit on the couch while I broke into the weapons and explosives room.

Joker Toxin, time bombs, knifes, guns, bazookas, classic bombs, there was even an atom bomb look-alike which only exploded large amounts of confetti and glitter. Why would he even need that last one?

I grabbed all the time bombs in the room and set them for three hours. It woud give them plenty of time to get back.

Brandon called for me. "I- I'm better now. Where are are you?"

I smiled. "In here. I'm just setting the time bombs now."

"WHAT?" He yelled, barrleing into the room.

I pointed to the clock-like explosives and his face turned an intriging shade of green.

"W-wont that hurt other people?" He said, still green.

"No," I said. "We're out of the city. The people killed will Be Harley and Joker; that's it."

He smirked. "Well, while we're doing something crazy, Let's have some music." He turned on a small radio sitting on the kitchen table.

Just our luck that the song that had just began playing was none other than P!nk's Funhouse.

I laughed out loud for the first time since I started having the mysterious feeling. "Did you plan that?"

He laughed too. "I swear to God I didn't!"

We began to hide the time bombs all throughout the house while dancing and laughing.

One in the oven.

One under my bed.

Two under the couch.

One hidden behind the hot water heater in the bathroom.

Two in the captive room underneath the pillow.

One in a giant smiley face that was part of the original funhouse.

Two were also planted outside of the home.

I dance around this empty house tear us down, throw you out

Screamin' down the halls

spinnin' all around and now we fall

Brandon took my hand and twirled me around. I twirled him. We laughed and skipped around and had fun for the first time in months.

This used to be a funhouse

But now it's full of evil clowns

It's time to start the countdown

I'm gonna burn it down

Down

Down

I'm gonna burn it down.

I started talking with the music. "Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. Fun!"

He laughed. "You know, you're gonna hate to hear this. This is the first time I have ever seen you so much like your dad."

I didn't get angry. Why should I be angry at him for the truth? I knew I was acting a little psycho at the moment but it was a time to celebrate. I was finally getting out of there. I was gonna live with Brandon and Batman and maybe even fight crime. I knew all of Ivy and Catwoman's tricks...

I just playfully stuck out my tounge. "Come on, we don't have much more time to waste. They'll be back any moment."

I went to grab my gun and he went into my room to get the belt I had stole from him so long ago.

I had just picked up my gun when I heard the front door open.

"Zackie! Daddy's home!"

_Well, fuck._

**Oh, was that a cliffhanger? Damn, and I tried so hard! It just seems that I don't know how to NOT leave you hanging. As always, Let me know what you think.**


	15. What Now?

**Hey everyone! You have every right in the world to be mad at me for the long wait. I really have no excuse but I'll make some any way. I had to focus on school, I lost all hope in this story, my friend was being pushy about me finishing this, I got into Hetalia and wrote 8 stories for that, and I had this awful diesease called WRITERS BLOCK AND LACK OF INSPIRATION!**

**BTW: Yes, I got over my nervousness and changed the rating back to T.**

**Also, this is important. I am now announceing a contest for Ragdoll fanart to become the cover for this story. Just PM me for more information about this but the deadline is before I put out the next chapter.**

I froze.

_Shit! they aren't supposed to be back for at least another hour! Oh God. If they find Brandon..._

_He set me up. That clown bastard! I should've known better. I should've killed Brandon when I had the chance._

_No._

_I can't think that. Brandon and I are going to get out of here and I'm finally going to be happy._

"Zackie! Answer me!" The Joker called out.

"Where you be, Z?" Harley said playfully.

Without thinking, I called back to them. "I'm in here! I dropped my gun and I had to get it!"

I stepped out of the captive room.

Harley ran up and hugged me. Over her shoulder I saw Joker grinning at me.

It was almost like he knew.

Of course he knew.

He always knows.

Joker stuck his head inside the captive room and inspected the shot-off doorknob. "Where's the body?"

"Gone." I answered quickly. Too quickly. _Calm down or you're gonna blow it!_

Harley pouted. "Aww... And I wanted to see you splatter him all over the walls!"

I put on what I hoped was a convincing smile and shrugged. "Sorry H- Mom. Next time, I guess!"

She was still pouting and the Joker was still inspecting the stainless room. "Good cleanup." He remarked. "I can't even tell you killed him."

"Th-thanks, Dad."

_Shit, I stuttered._

_Calm down._

_Calm down._

"So how do I know he's really gone?"

My breathing hitched. "Because he's gone."

"So?"

"So, I wouldn't lie to you. I'm your daughter. It was a pleasure to kill Robin."

"So what did you do with the body?"

"Incinerator."

He had that Goddamn all knowing evil glint in his eye. "Fair enough."

Harley suddenly exclaimed a loud "WEEE!" And did several cartwheels untill she was next to the phone. "I'm gonna call Ivy and tell her all about it! Ha! And she always told me kids were good for nothin'!"

"Oh yes." Joker said coldly. "Our Zackie's somethin' alright" He put a hand on my pigtailed head and ruffled my hair. I shivered inwardly as chills went down my spine at his touch.

Brandon's POV

I found my yellow utility belt and quietly clicked it on. Through a hole in her door, I could see Zachary talking to her parents. I wanted to help her.

But I'm no idiot and Z is no damsel in distress.

"So, I wouldn't lie to you. I'm your daughter. It was a pleasure to kill Robin." She said.

_Creepy._

I was trapped in here untill Zachary gave me a sign of some sorts, so I started looking around her room.

The pictures that plastered the walls were creepy and disturbing and morbid. She had news paper and digital snap shots it seems she took herself of buildings blowing up or burning and dead bodies. It seemed like something only someone as insane as the Joker would do.

Needless to say I was having second thoughts.

I hadn't lied when I said I loved her. The months I spent in this house, talking and laughing and getting to know her, were enough to prove that I really did care about her. She was beautiful in a interesting way and smart and witty and tough. She was something you only come across once in your life if you're lucky.

But these pictures... So many dead... Because of her.

I excepted that she's killed people, but I never thought it would be this bad. This was truely awful.

I tore my eyes away from the morbid walls and found a bag lying on her dresser. With that, I thought it would be useful to pack her some clothes.

I opened the closet and found clothes that looked completely normal for a girl her age. A lot more green and purple than most wardrobes but still perfectly normal. I searched through them and picked out a few shirts I thought were nice and folded them up and stuffed them into the bag.

I figured she had enough shirts for now and looked for some pants. After packing a skirt, a pair of shorts, and a pair of jeans, I tried to remember what else she would need.

There was underwear and bras and such, but I would let her look through those.

_Ah! Shoes!_

There was a shoebox in the closet. Perhaps that would have something in it.

I was horrified when I opened the box and discovered a dead cat.

The poor cat had a slightly twisted leg and it was missing part of its ear. Not to mention all the bones that looked shattered and broken.

_What did she do? Surely, only a psychopath would kill a small cat and keep it with her._ I thought. _But Z isn't a psychopath..._

I looked at the pictures on the walls and back at the dead cat.

_Right?_

I shivered and put the lid back on the box and placed it back in the closet.

I went to look at Z again. She was being hugged by Harley and The Joker planted a kiss on her cheek. It made me feel nausous.

I just hoped she knew what she was doing.

Zachary's POV

I had no idea what I was doing.

I knew we were going to have to kill them and let all of my wonderful bomb setup go to waste, but I just couldn't bring myself to shoot them.

_I'm just a kid! How can I expect myself to shoot my parents?_

Besides, it would be a tough choice deciding who to kill first.

Shoot Harley: Joker drops the act and shoots me down faster than I can pull a trigger.

Shoot Joker: Harley kills me for "Hurtin' her precious Puddin'"

Either way, I'm screwed.

And the worst part was, Joker knew it.

"Hey, Zachary! Don't forget to make dinner soon okay?" Harley called.

"Yeah, no problem."

Joker finally walked away with a smile and a message in his eyes that said "I have you and you know it."

I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat as I barely opened the door to my room and slipped in.

Brandon was sitting on my bed, legs crossed. He opened his mouth to say something and I nearly pounced on him. "No!" I whispered.

He nodded in understanding and I pulled out a pen and paper to write back and forth with.

_So,_ He wrote._ what do we do now?_

_**I have no idea. **_I wrote back in my mediocre penmanship

_We jacked around way to long. How much time is left on those bombs?_

_**Well, more like he cut his trip short. But yes we did mess around to much. **_

_You didn't answer my question... _He gave me a look.

_**Sorry, just freaking out. Maybe an hour or a little less.**_

_We need to haul ass, Z._

_**We need to not worry about the bombs, B.**_

_What?_

_**Not when there are two psycho clowns, better known as my parents, in here. We are dead the second he drops the act.**_

_But you're his daughter!_

_**Brandon. I cannot believe that I'm telling this to you of all people. Forget everything you know about how parents are supposed to act. I am alive today because I proved useful to him. He will kill us both in a hearbeat.**_

_Okay... _He drew a frowny face.

I rolled my eyes._**Let's just focus on a plan. Alright?**_

_Cool. What do we do?_

I got up and went over to my weapons. I pulled a nice handgun out and threw it to him. He caught it and gave me a look.

I tilted my head to the side and sat back down._** What? **_I wrote._**You said we have to kill both of them. You'll need it.**_

_I just don't feel right about it._

_**It never feels right. Not unless you're insane.**_

He nodded. _ Alright then... So what happens now?_

_**Now? We pray for a miracle.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Filler chapter? You bet! Important info? Also yes. So shut it.<strong>


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